Pawn Pieces
by Beautiful Nightmare
Summary: Sometimes you play the game. Other times, the game plays you. Loss is inevitable. And failure is always an option.


**Disclaimer:** No profits were made. I don't own anything except the words. If you're offended by language, stop here because I will not hold back.

**Pawn Pieces**

"I'm sorry sir, you're just going to have to wait. The doctor will let you know when he's done."

He blanched at the memory that tore him back to the one day he would rather forget. To the emergency nurse in her crisp blue scrubs and her pristine squeaky sneakers. Yes, she had only been doing her job but she had also been blowing his questions off for far too long. He'd known he was growing more hysterical as the hours passed but he hadn't been able to force himself to calm down. The outcome of _his_ life resided on that doctor's shoulders.

"That memory makes my fucking skin crawl. I sat. Man, I sat, and waited for that fucking doctor for hours. People came and went. Some with smiles and some with tears. And I had nothing. Not one fucking thing to turn to. Everyone was gone, split up and headed in different directions. I was the only one willing to stay behind and wait on you. The family we trusted with our lives left us man. They fucking left us. And now I'm alone and you're gone too."

He stood and walked to the window. The rain crashed against it noisily and he couldn't help but welcome its cold fingers through the cracked window pane. The room was hot. Sweltering almost. He'd have left, had he any place to go. Without the team, he was virtually homeless. Unable to return to the lonely house inhabited by bloodstained memories.

"How did we end up here? How did I let him convince me? He was so fucking charismatic. He didn't give a damn about you or me. We were just another pawn in his game. We played our parts and when it came down to it, well, we were fucking expendable."

His eyes gazed out into the overcast sky and he wondered where they were. Whether they thunk of him. Whether they ever thought of making contact. Whether they missed him. Surely, they must. They'd been together for so long. They'd taken care of each other. They'd watched each other's backs. They'd been family.

"It's not fair man. We did right by them and where does that leave us? You're gone and I can't fucking leave this place. I can't leave without you. I swore to your pops I'd take care of you and I fucked it up. I fucking failed. Who the hell am I to make promises like that? I can't even take of myself. How the fuck was I supposed to take care of you?," he growled, dragging a hand through his wavy locks. "I'm sorry man. I was so blind. Damn it, I knew he was shady, I knew he'd be no good for us. But we'd been alone so long bro, I just couldn't help it. I wanted a family, man. I wanted roots. I wanted them. Does that make me a bad person?"

He'd wiped a callused hand down his tired face and whirled from the window. The weather outside had matched his surly disposition and he couldn't stand that storm anymore than the one building inside himself. He'd collapsed in a chair, shifting uncomfortably against the hard back. He hadn't been able to find a comfortable position in days, weeks even. His body ached with guilt and anguish. He knew he was falling into a self made abyss and he couldn't seem to pull himself out. His anger had deepened the pit but he refused to let it go. That anger was the only thing keeping him alive now.

"I can't stand it man. I miss you so much. I would've been fine when they left if you hadn't gone too. We could have picked up and gone south like you always wanted. We could have gone to that stupid place you were always talking about. I'd suck it up right now and move to that one horse town if it would bring you back. We don't need them to survive. We did fine before them. We could do it man, we could live."

He sat forward in his chair and gazed at the small photo on the table beside him. The people he'd once loved stared back at him, smiles frozen in place. Happiness frozen in time. Back to the time when fast and furious ruled their lives. He stretched out a pale hand and fingered the cool glass before setting it face down. He didn't resemble the man in the photo any longer. His pallor rivaled the sickly and his cheeks had slowly sunk in upon themselves from lack of nourishment. His once brilliant eyes were now bloodshot and steeped with self hatred.

That photo disgusted him, but he left it there, in its spot. It reminded him of how badly he'd fucked up their lives and how he deserved the desolate life he'd suddenly acquired. And yet, he still sat in that chair every day, beside that damn picture, shifting uncomfortably. Sometimes he read aloud, sometimes he talked about cars, sometimes he even swore he saw his old friend, but mostly he just sat.

He stood slowly and stretched his arms above his head. His spine cracked with the sudden movement but he didn't feel the tension leave. He didn't feel anything anymore. He looked down at the empty body before him.

"I need you man. When you gonna wake up?"

He touched his knuckles to the warm hand curled on the hospital bed and walked to the door. He turned in the open doorway and looked back, just as he had done every day. Hoping to see him sitting up and grinning like old times. He turned back to the bright hallway in defeat.

There's no movement though.

There never is.

"Le?" a sleep thickened whisper tickled his ear.

He turned back to the bed in that depressing hospital room. The first sign of life from the usually motionless body are the bright blue eyes staring back at him.

"Jess?"

**A/N: This is a companion piece to a story I'm currently working on. However, it is in the very beginning stages – as in only one chapter is written. I'd really like to know what you think of this; punctuation, spelling, grammar, and so forth. **


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